


why must I be a teenager in love

by fangirl6202



Series: learn to take the good with the bad [2]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Big Brother Jack Kelly, Fights, Good Boyfriend Spot Conlon, Hispanic Spot Conlon, Italian Racetrack Higgins, Jack Kelly & Spot Conlon Rivalry, Jack Kelly Being an Idiot, Jack being Jack, M/M, Medda Larkin Being A Good Mom, Misunderstandings, Much Needed Talks, Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins-centric, depictions of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:34:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26817442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl6202/pseuds/fangirl6202
Summary: Making his way out to the parking lot, Jack forced himself to cool down. If he didn’t, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t march back into that locker room and choke Spot Conlon to death.How could he? He and Spot weren’t the closest, but shit they weren’t at each other’s throats like they were in middle school. Jack would go as far as to say he respected Spot, especially after knowing everything the boy had gone through.They were friends now. Jack felt more betrayed than anything.
Relationships: Racetrack Higgins & Jack Kelly, Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins
Series: learn to take the good with the bad [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1955944
Comments: 33
Kudos: 57





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 'each night i ask the stars up above' was a passion project of mine for almost half a year, so while it isn't completely necessary to read it, it is around 10k of drawn out pwp so might not be everyone's cup of tea, I would really really really appreciate it if you did!
> 
> If not, I'll leave with you the last section of it so you're not entirely lost:
> 
> " That night, Spot slept soundly. He was exhausted, every limb in his body screaming, but as he laid with Racetrack none of that mattered.
> 
> Tangled together, bare chests rising and falling in sync, the young couple dreamt of their future and what life would be like when they were older and together. College wasn't that far away and both boys had decided they wanted to attend the same university. Spot had thought about asking Race to move in with him once they had graduated. But that conversation was for another time.
> 
> They slept so soundly, neither heard the key turning in Racetrack's door nor the gasp from the intruder. To them, life was calm and peaceful.
> 
> To Jack Kelly, hell had just broken loose. "

Jack Kelly was mad.

No, Jack Kelly was fucking _livid._

When he was a kid, he thought Sean Conlon was the spawn of Satan. He had hated his guts, but now he wanted to _murder_ him. 

" _Shit,_ Spot!” Someone whooped as the boy came out of the showers, a towel wrapped around his waist and another around his neck. But the towels did little to hide the various marks all over his neck, chest, and back. Jack stared, slack jaw, as he saw the purple and red lines littering Spot's body and couldn't help the question in the back of his mind. _Race did that?_

The lockerroom soon became louder than ever, the entirety of the football team whooping and cheering, and Spot just smiled like the bastard he was, eating it all up. 

“Calm down!” He yelled out, opening up his locker to get changed. “He just got a little overexcited.” 

He wondered just how many of those marks Race shared on his own body, and Jack saw red, his hands balling into fists. 

“His first time with you?” Someone asked over the noise and Spot let out a laugh.

“His first time with _anyone_.” 

More cheers, but this time Spot didn’t look as cheeky.

“Damn, he a good lay?” 

“Ask me that again Oscar and I’ll beat the fucking shit out of you.”

The comment said in his little brother’s defense wasn’t heard though, because Jack had already slammed his locker shut and stormed out. No one paid him much mind, and for once, he was glad.

Making his way out to the parking lot, Jack forced himself to cool down. If he didn’t, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t march back into that locker room and choke Spot Conlon to death. 

How could he? He and Spot weren’t the closest, but shit they weren’t at each other’s throats like they were in middle school. Jack would go as far as to say he respected Spot, especially after knowing everything the boy had gone through.

They were friends now. So Jack felt more betrayed than anything.

He drove home, not even bothering to play music. Instead, he thought about everything he had seen last night. Was he proud of what he did, opening Race's door even though it was locked? No. But he knew when Race was upset, or least he thought he did. It was their routine: Race would blare his music for hours and when it finally quieted down, Jack would head up to his room and they'd talk. He tried to last night, and when he found the door was locked, his worry got the best of him. He knew he shouldn't have used the key, but now he wished he hadn't had. Just the sight of his brother and his best friend in bed, their clothes scattered all over the floor, was enough to make his blood boil over again.

Spot was attractive, everybody knew, and they had gotten drunk together at house parties enough for Jack to know he wasn't a chaste innocent. Spot Conlon would fuck anyone that walked, and he was proud of it too. If he wasn't lying, if last night really _had_ been Race's first time with anybody, Spot had done it for the fun of it. He had taken something Race could never get back just to say that he had. Jack thought that Spot had at least some semblance of honor, but it was clear now that he didn't.

In what was usually a 20-minute drive made 10, Jack made his way inside his house and immediately relaxed when he heard his mother's music playing throughout the house, a sign that she was fixing up dinner.

“Hey, Momma.” He said, coming up to Medda at the stove and planting a kiss on her cheek. "I'm home."

“Hey, Sugar,” she said, giving him a smile that already made him feel better. “I’m just about finished with dinner. Can you get the boys?”

The boys? Jack gave her a confused look and his Ma laughed a little. “Sean came over. He’s up in Anthony’s room.”

He couldn’t get up those stairs quick enough. 

Before he even reached the door, he could hear them, laughing as if Spot hadn’t taken full advantage of Anthony the night before. He wondered how long Spot had been planning it and he felt anger worm it’s way up to his chest like a red ugly spark. He threw the door open, taking the two boys inside by surprise.

They were looking at something on Race’s phone, Race lying on his bed and Spot sitting on the floor next to it, but their heads jerked up at the loud noise. Race smiled at him, looking glad as ever to see him, but his smile dropped when he saw the look of pure murderous intent on his face.

“Get. Out. _Now._ ” 

Race got up, shooting his brother an alarmed look. “Jack, what are you doing?”

He ignored this, glaring daggers at the boy who was making himself welcome in _his_ house, who had used his brother, who had crossed every line there was to cross. 

“Get the fuck away from him,” Jack said, marching into his room. Spot got up, trying to back up, but Jack reached out and grabbed him before he could. He heard Race scream at him as he hauled him up and shoved Spot against the wall, could hear the objects on the wall clatter to the floor, but he didn’t care.

“ _What the fuck, Kelly?!”_ Spot yelled at him, trying to fight out of his grip. 

“How fucking could you?!” Jack screamed back. “We let you into our family, into our home, and _you fuck my brother?!”_

Spot’s eyes widened, out of fear or surprise Jack didn’t know, but he kicked out at Jack, causing him to scream in pain and let go.

“Fuck you!” Spot yelled, even as Race rushed over to him, pulling him back. 

“I fucking trusted you, you _piece of shit!”_

Jack tried to advance, but Racer forced himself between the two of them, his back to his brother and hand out towards Spot. It wasn’t enough though, because he shoved Racer aside and the two boys went at it. Punches were thrown with little held back, the two falling on the floor and knocking shit off the walls, and neither listening to Race’s screams to stop. Spot managed to roll them over, but the two were so focused on each other, they barely registered the footfall on the stairs, didn’t notice the door slamming open. 

“Boys!" Miss Medda screamed, grabbing Race and pulling him away from them, " _B_ _oys!”_

Spot, to his credit, stopped when he heard her, but Jack had no such intentions. He got one final punch in, heard a loud _crunch_ as Spot stumbled back with a yell before Medda forcibly hauled Jack off the ground as if he were a toddler.

“What the hell are you two doing?!” She yelled, throwing Jack a furious look that didn’t reassure him at all. But if she knew the reason, Jack had no doubt she'd run Spot out of her house before the boy could blink. “I thought you two were past this!”

Jack spit out a mouth of blood, wiping it off with the back of his hand. "Ask Racer, Momma. He'll tell you." 

The three of them turned to the blond, who was shaking so badly, Jack felt an instant wave of regret and shame engulf him. 

"Jack… Mom, Jack found about me and Spot."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Depictions of past car accidents and character death. Please do be safe while reading this guys <3

“It still hurt?” 

“No shit, Kelly.”

“Good.”

Spot scoffed, not expecting any other kind of response from the eldest Larkin boy, grateful that Medda was there, or else he’d take another swing at him.

It was dark now, maybe sometime around 11, and Spot still felt a little uneasy. Their trip to the E.R. had been gratefully uneventful, only checking to make sure he wasn’t concussed and setting his nose, but he nevertheless didn’t like it. The last time he had been in a hospital, it had been anything but uneventful.

“Jack, stop that,” Miss Medda scolded, and he begrudgingly sat down at the table, quieting down. Spot wanted to leave, wanted to get up from this table and not come back, but he knew leaving was a bad idea. He was in no condition to drive.

By now, Spot would be back at his apartment, probably calling his sister Kelly just to talk and to let her know he was ok, but Miss Medda was adamant that he was going to spend the night with them. Jack’s glare at that statement could murder, but one look from his mother was all it took for him to not fight it. Apparently the woman had already worked something out with Superintendent Roosevelt and Principal Pulitzer, so Spot and the Larkin boys were staying home from school tomorrow.

“Now, you two are going to  _ talk this out _ ,” Medda said, glaring at both of them. Spot couldn’t help but squirm in his seat, because there was nothing on this Earth scarier than a disapproving Medda Larkin. “Because I know you. You’re friends. You’re better than this.” 

“I have nothing to say to him that you’d approve of Momma,” Jack said, looking like he’d rather get run over than speak to him.

“In that case,  _ John _ ,” she said, catching the boy off guard with the use of his real name. Spot smirked at that, but Medda glared at him too. “Listen. Because I’m sure Sean has plenty to say to you.”

With that, she took Race with her to the living room, and both boys knew she wouldn’t be far in case they fought again. Smart woman.

For a minute or two, neither of them looked at each, didn’t say a word, until Spot moved his jaw bit and winced at the pain.

“Won’t lie to you, Kelly, you got me good.”

He didn’t want to admit it, wanted to act like his head wasn’t throbbing and he didn't have trouble catching his breath, but he knew it was the only way to play to Jack’s vanity. If it meant they could get this conversation over with sooner, he’d be the bigger man. 

“That was definitely the point,” Jack muttered back, murderous glare sent at him that Spot forced himself to not reciprocate.

“You mind telling me what warranted it?”

Jack looked at him, looked at him as if he were the most moronic person on the planet. Granted, he regularly gave him that look, but this was one of the few times Spot knew he meant it. “I don't have to explain anything.”

“Fine.” He replied, gritting his teeth, hating how stubborn Jack was. “But if you want this to be over, if you want me out of here as much as I do, you better start talking.”

He wasn’t doing it for himself, and he sure as hell wasn’t doing it for Jack. He was doing this for Racer. No matter how much Race loved him, it would tear him to pieces if he and Jack kept this up much longer.

If he wasn’t going to make the effort for himself, he was sure as hell going to try for Race.

Jack stared at him, and Spot thought he was going to be a stubborn bastard like he usually was.

“Did you hurt him?”

Of all the questions he could have asked, this was one he wasn’t expecting. “What?”

Though he thought Jack was incapable of it, he looked even angrier. “You weren’t subtle in the locker room today, asshole.”

The locker room? It took him a second, but once he realized what Jack was referring to, he felt a warm flood to his cheeks. When he had woken up that morning, sneaking into Race’s bathroom, he let out a low whistle as he saw the marks all over his body. His neck got uncomfortably warm when he saw how easily and openly Race claimed him, but he thought it was a good look. A fucking beautiful one, actually. He hadn’t meant to flaunt it in the locker room, but he was proud of it. 

“No. I didn’t.” He said, holding Jack’s gaze, trying to calm himself. 

The silence after that emission was near deafening, especially since neither was known to communicate well. Spot wished, not for the first time, that he was more like Racer, who spoke so easily and willingly. 

“Look, I don’t know what you want from me-”

“I want to know  _ why,”  _ Jack said, his famous temper rearing its head, almost setting his own off. “I want to know why, of all the people in the world, you decided to screw around with my brother.” 

He worked his jaw at the statement, the pain blooming throughout his body distracting him from the thought of strangling Jack. He interrupted him.  _ No one  _ interrupted him. And he couldn’t believe Jack thought so little of him.

“It’s a long story, Kelly.”

“I’ve got time.”

In all honesty, Spot didn’t  _ want  _ to retell it, nor did he think Jack deserved to know it. It started with the darkest time of his life, the scarred skin covering the left portion of his abdomen a painful reminder of it all.

Spot couldn’t even remember which movie his friends and he were so excited to see, some fucking stupid action movie, but he had begged his parents to take them, and they agreed. Though Spot had invited him out of pity than anything, Racetrack had stayed home to study for some math test. It was the one thing Spot and Jack were eternally fucking grateful for. 

He couldn’t remember when the car flipped over or even how many times, but he remembered the screams and being choked by his seatbelt as they were suspended in mid-air. 

He didn't scream. Not even when he turned and saw his friends bloody and bruised. Albert was dead, there was no way he wasn’t, and to this day the sight of his eyes staring back at Spot caused him nightmares. Charlie’s leg was bleeding bad, but he was still conscious. Thank God he was still conscious. But it was Jack that had scared him the most. 

Jack wouldn’t wake up for another few months, and Spot had spent years of his life blaming himself. Medda never once did, not even when Jack was in the coma, but that didn't mean he didn't hate himself for it. Those months of staying by Jack’s bedside when his doctors told him he was well enough to walk around the hospital were especially painful. 

Onlookers had rushed to the car in what must have been less than 5 minutes, and Spot had screamed then. Screamed that his friends needed to get out first, that he was fine, that he wasn’t leaving until they were out. 

The rest of that night was a blur to Spot now, remembering little after the stench of gasoline filling the air and someone trying to hold him back, trying to stop him from rushing back to the car his mother was still in.

They could have tried harder.

The blast from the explosion was what he remembered the least. Had the lower part of his body not been so badly scarred, he might have forgotten it had happened. 

“No one blames you, Spotty,” Someone said, and both boys looked up to see Racer leaning against the doorframe, looking at Spot with quiet sympathy. “I know that face, babe.”

Neither saw Jack bristle at the word, neither really would have cared.

Race made his way over, sat down next to him, and offered his hand. It was a regular gesture, something he did when he knew Spot was feeling overwhelmed, but it seemed more than that right now. If he took it, it’d be nothing less than letting Jack know that what was between them was so much more than sex. 

He took it with no hesitation. Damn he was in love with this boy.

“You two aren’t just fucking… are you?”

“That’s an awkward way to ask if we’re dating, Jack,” Race muttered, and Spot could have laughed his eyes at how red Jack got. 

“ _ Dating?” _

His voice lowered almost half an octave, so low that Spot would have been slightly fearful if he wasn’t just as intimidating when he chose to be.

“Almost half a year now.” He said, a small smile on his face that made Spot’s heart (involuntarily) skip a beat. Mostly everyone knew that if there were two people that weren’t to be trifled with, it was Jack Kelly and Spot Conlon. Famous tempers and no qualms for starting fights, people knew not to piss them off. But no one knew that there was only one person in the world neither could get mad at, and they both loved him, in their own very different ways.

The two watched as Jack leaned back in his seat, not looking at either of them as he registered the news. They both realized he was about to lose it, and Spot was about to speak, about to tell Race to leave the room, when the Italian beat him to it. 

"I made the first move." 

Both turned to look at him, not expecting the outburst, and Race only shrugged. 

"Well, I tried anyway. Spot turned me down cold.”

Spot turned to glare at his boyfriend, always annoyed when Race brought that up. Though he only ever did whenever he wanted to do something that Spot didn’t want to (and yet Spot always gave in. Why did he always give in?)

“You were drunk, asshole,” Spot said, remembering that night, some party at the nearby college campus, and how Race had tried to kiss him after his third cup of straight vodka. Nearly managed it too, but Spot managed to move at the last second so that Race ended up kissing his ear rather than his lips. He had let out a moan, one that shook Spot to his core, and pouted at him. “ _ Meanie.” _

It was the most self-control he’d ever shown, but Spot had stayed sober the whole night and had driven Race home. It wasn’t until a few months later that Race tried to kiss him again (no alcohol in his system this time) and Spot had let him. 

“I wasn’t going to take advantage of you like that.” 

At that, Jack laughed with no humor. “You’ve already taken advantage of him.” 

Spot hadn’t meant to, really, but before he knew it, his chair was flying back and Race was holding him back.

“ _ Fucking say that shit again!”  _ He yelled as Jack stood up too, wanting nothing more than to bruise his knuckles by smashing his face in. 

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing?” Jack replied, and if looks could kill, Spot didn’t know which of them would be dead first. “You’re only ‘dating’ Anthony so you can say you fucked him! He means  _ nothing  _ to you!”

Oh that was it. That was the last straw. 

Spot had mentally prepared for the struggle of getting out of Race’s grip, the dancer was much stronger than he let on, but he was momentarily thrown when he was able to bring his arm back with no problem. His confusion was short-lived because the next second, Jack was on the floor, and Race was standing over him, cradling his wrist, looking angry and upset, and hurt all at once. 

“Don’t you dare think Spot would do that," Race said, voice low and steady, so unlike him. Jack stared up at him in utter disbelief, hand on his jaw. 

"Race, I--" 

_ "Will you fucking listen to me for once?!"  _

Both boys stared at Race, who looked four seconds from murdering Jack himself.

“God  _ damn it,  _ Jack! Can’t you think for one second!” He yelled, and it was only then that Spot realized Medda was back in the room too, hand over her mouth as she watched the scene go down.

“ _ I love him!  _ And damn it, he loves me! What happened last night?! I had to talk  _ him  _ into it because he would  **_never_ ** do anything to hurt me.” 

Race glanced back at Spot, and he could see that the boy was about to break down. 

“I just-- I just can’t believe you.”

Race’s voice cracked on the last word and sprinted out of the room, and Spot was after him in a second. A hand shot out to grab his as he tried to follow him, and he jolted when he saw it was Medda, tears in her eyes and giving him a pleading look.

“Help him,” Medda begged, and Spot couldn’t say anything. 

He only nodded and chased after Race.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the story of three idiots continue! I was really trying to wrap the story up in this chapter but it just didn't feel right so I split it up into a third chapter! 
> 
> Also!!! Hispanic Spot Conlon is now officially a tag and I'm so happy about it!! Someone said a while that I owned that tag and honestly, I just might 😝 Ok no, there are plenty of other creators who use Hispanic Spot Conlon, I'm just so so so so happy it's an actual tag!! I thought I was crazy portraying him as Hispanic instead of Irish or Italian like most people do, so this just feels really good
> 
> Kudos and Comments make me feel so good so please!!! Leave me some!! Tell me what you thought about this chapter too, do you think Jack is right? Do you think Race was justified in punching Jack? Is Medda the best mom ever? (That last question is also a yes!!)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Love you all


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: more mentions of vehicle accidents and character. Mentions of self-harm and past non-con. They're each mentioned maybe once, but still, I want you guys to stay safe <3

Spot Conlon had started his day in his boyfriend’s bed, for the second time in a row. That had never happened to him before and he wasn’t sure when it would happen next. If it were any other occasion, Spot would be over the moon at the idea of waking up next to his love, but this wasn’t any occasion. Last night hadn’t been any occasion.

The events of the previous night played over in Spot’s mind like a broken record, repeating and repeating and repeating. Racetrack had punched Jack in Spot’s defense and had run to his room the moment he did. Though Spot chased after him mere moments after the incident occurred, Race nearly succeeded in locking Spot out. 

After a few minutes of pleading, Spot had managed to get the door open, and Race melted in Spot’s arm, sobbing so hard his entire body shook. What had he done? Jack was going to hate him and he deserved it. His brother was the most important person in the world to him; he had taught him how to ride a bike, how to swim, how to tie his fucking shoes. Jack was the one he went to when he was feeling down, and Jack had been his best friend for so long. And somehow it had only taken one wrong comment about Spot, the boy he loved, and his anger had blinded him. 

“ _ Jack’s going to hate me,”  _ Had been a sentence repeated over and over again throughout the night _.”He’s going to hate me.” _

Race had fallen asleep with his back to Spot’s chest sometime around 3 in the morning, tears still falling from his eyes as he slept. As hard as he tried, Spot couldn’t sleep. By the time he decided to quietly get up, to go to the kitchen and make himself some coffee, the sun was coming up over the horizon. 

When Jack came down, three hours had passed and Spot hadn’t touched his mug.

“Is he okay?” Was the first thing out of his mouth, and as much as Spot hated him at that moment, he had to hand it to him; he was a good brother. Spot knew how close the Larkin brothers were, knew that Jack was only doing this in a misguided attempt to protect his little brother.

But this was the same person who had put him in the hospital no less than 24 hours ago. Jack Kelly could go to hell for all that Spot cared at that moment.

“No.” He said, voice as cold and thin as ice. “He’s not.” 

Jack slumped at that, bringing a hand over his face.“I’m going up there.” he muttered

“You’re not going anywhere.” 

Jack looked up, hearing the protectiveness in Spot’s voice, and understood that Spot was serious. He wasn’t going to let Jack up those stairs, and Jack knew better than to try. Not knowing what else to do, he sat down next to him. 

“You know what I spent the night doing, Kelly?” He asked, not wasting any time in staring him down. Spot was mad. Spot was livid. “I consoled the boy I loved for  _ hours,  _ making sure he didn’t do something stupid because he tends to be self-destructive.” 

Spot hadn’t meant to let that slip, ‘the boy I love,’ but Jack still heard it. He wanted to be angry about it, get as angry as he was last night, but he couldn’t. Against his better judgment, he was starting to believe Spot meant it. 

“Did you know that, Kelly?” Spot continued. “Whenever Racer is feeling overwhelmed, he hurts himself. He never  _ means  _ to do it, but he does. He -- Race scratches himself to the point of bleeding when he can’t get his hand on cigarettes. And he usually can.”

At first, Spot had found it immensely attractive. Skipping class to hang out under the bleachers, watching Race dangle a lit cigarette between a sinful smirk, and it would lead to a makeout session that left Spot reeling. It was hot, hotter than it should’ve been, and then Spot realized that Race wasn’t just doing it out of rebellion. 

He didn’t find it attractive anymore.

“Last night I held him for  _ hours, _ " Spot continued. "I was holding him until my arms went numb. He thought I was comforting him Jack, and I was, but more than that I was holding him so he couldn't move his arms. I was restraining him. So he wouldn't hurt h-himself."

Spot's voice broke at the end of his sentence, his chest physically hurting at the thought of anything happening to Race. He could see tears forming in Jack's eyes and he felt some in his own. He wanted to be mad, wanted to hold onto that anger that Jack caused, but he was just tired. So so tired. 

“Damn it, Jack, you’re his brother. He loves you, more than he’ll ever love me. Brothers aren't supposed to hurt each other like you hurt him.”

Jack knew he was right. God, he  _ hated  _ admitting it, but Spot was right. The look Race gave him before he ran was one that he could never forget. He looked so pained, so hurt, and Jack had caused it. How could he ever live with himself?

“I just…” Jack said, slumping over the table. “I'm worried about him.”

Spot didn’t bother with trying to cover up his laugh of disdain. “You really think that little of me.”

It wasn’t a question, and both boys knew it. In Spot’s mind, Jack thought of him as nothing. Somebody who would never be good enough for his brother. It hurt him a lot more than he was willing to admit, the idea that the man he considered his best friend thought he wasn’t good enough. 

“Spot,” Jack pleaded. “You gotta understand me here. We’ve known each other for years. How many times have I seen you go off with some guy who names you don’t even know? How many times have we joked about your sex life?” 

Spot couldn’t help the flush to his cheeks, and he almost couldn't meet Jack's eyes. 

"Race is different." He said, and he hoped to God Jack knew how serious he was being. " _ Anthony _ is different." 

“How?” Jack said, and he leaned forward, an almost dire look to his eyes. “ _ Please _ , tell me how. This is my little brother, Sean. How is he any different from the other ones?”

“Because I love him.”

In all the time Jack knew him, Spot had never used the word love. He had seen him through countless hook-ups and flings, and not once had he used the word love. Jack didn't want to say it, but he was just as scared for Sean as he was for Anthony. 

If anything were to happen to their relationship, Jack would be left to pick up the pieces of both of them. He'd have to side with Racer, he'd have to, and he'd lose Spot. He didn't want to lose Spot. Not again. 

"You guys have only been together for a few months. Love doesn't come that quickly--"

"Jack I've been in love with him since we were kids." 

The words stunned Jack into silence, and he leaned back in his chair. Spot took it as his chance to talk for once. To say what he wanted to say and pray that it worked out. 

"Did I ever tell you about those months you were out?" 

It was the polite way to say "when you were in a coma and we weren't sure if you were gonna wake up.”

"I wasn't the only person who waited by your bed, Jack. Racer… the nurses loved Racer so much they'd let him come in before visiting hours. He'd already be there by the time I got up, always doing his homework or reading to you." 

The time Race and Spot spent in that hospital together were the only good things to come out of the accident. They would spend hours talking to each other or to an unconscious Jack, and that was when Spot first realized that Jack Kelly’s kid brother wasn’t as annoying as he had first thought. The night when Race showed up to the hospital in a tux and with a corsage so they wouldn't miss out on a crappy school dance and they had danced to a playlist on his iPod, Spot just knew he was so gone. 

"He became my best friend in those months. When Kelly wasn’t with me or your Ma wasn't there, Racer was. He didn't make me feel like I was stuck in a hospital, he always knew how to cheer me up, and I-- I just fell." 

Spot didn't even realize he was crying until he saw Jack looking like a spooked deer in headlights. Jack had never seen him cry, not even when he woke up and Spot was the one who broke the news about Albert and Charlie. Not even when he said his parents hadn’t made it out. 

"Jack, please,” Spot said shakily. “You have to understand. He's--he's who I want to spend my life with, who I want to wake up next to every day. Race makes me laugh, and he makes me happy. There's so much of him to love."

Spot was nearly hyperventilating at this point, tears streaming down his face and words rushing out like he had been waiting for this his entire life. 

"He-he dances like no one is watching and it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. He gets me to dance with him sometimes and I'm shit at it, but I'd do anything to make him smile. Dancing with him is the closest thing to heaven I've got. 

"I, uh, I learned constellations for him; he loves it when we sneak out and drive up the mountains and just look at the stars. He looks at the stars the same way I look at him, so I learned constellations for him. He always looks so happy when I point one out and tell him it's story. Racer likes Orion the most. Did you know that?

"The amount of times I've watched Pride and Prejudice is insane, but it's Race's favorite movie and I'd watch that for the rest of my life if he wanted me to. I pretend it annoys me, but it makes me so happy when he calls me his Mr. Darcy."

Spot continued on and on, pointing out different things about Jack's little brother that he loved. Jack stayed quiet, listening to all these little things he had never noticed, and his heart broke a little more with every detail. 

How could he never have noticed? 

"Race was telling the truth yesterday, y'know. He had to talk me into doing anything because every time I end up in bed with someone, they're gone before it's even midnight. No one stays, and I used to be fine with that, but Race? I don't want him to leave. I can't handle the idea of him leaving, but… but he told me he loved me for the first time and I just couldn't say no to him!”

Spot let out a watery kinda laugh at the thought. "Have you… have you ever laughed? During sex?” 

Thankfully, before Jack had  _ that  _ mental image of his brother unwillingly planted in his head, something he had never prepared for in his life, Spot was already talking again.

“I never had, not before Racer. No one’s ever looked past the sex before, much less cared enough to laugh with me. He said he loved me but I don’t think it sunk in until then.” 

Spot trailed off, mind seemingly realizing that he had given Jack more details than either wanted him to know. 

Jack definitely had heard too much, and if heard another detail about his brother’s sex life in say 50 years, it would be too soon. Much too soon, but he also now realized just how wrong he had been. God, he had to tell Race. He had to beg him to forgive him.

He tried to get up but Spot grabbed his wrist, solemnly shaking his head at Jack’s confused expression. “He thinks you hate him, Jack.”

Jack’s mouth dropped open at the words, not quite believing it. Hate him? Jack could never. Race was his little brother, the person he had vowed to protect until the day he died. How could Race ever think that?

“Because… because of what you said last night. The reason why he swung at you.”

Spot knew from the look of confusion on his face that he didn’t even remember what he had said, and Spot had to look away. 

_ You've already taken advantage of him.  _

The words stung, even more so when it came from one of the only two, maybe three people who knew his story. 

Spot didn't even remember the girl's name, didn't want to bother trying. For months he had blamed himself for the entire thing, thinking of every reason why it was his fault: he was drunk, he was out too late, he didn't say no and by the time he had tried to it she hadn’t cared.

It had taken therapy, God, and Jack to get him through it. 

“I told Race about what happened to me, how my first time went. Or at least, what I can remember about it, and--”

"I accused you of doing the same thing to him." 

Spot didn’t need to look up to know the expression of horror Jack most certainly wore, his voice was telling enough. 

“Fuck, Spot, I am  _ so fucking sorry--” _

“Please don’t,” He said too quickly, breathing a little ragged. “I don’t want to think about it any more than I have to.” 

“Spot, I have to apologize.”

Jack wasn’t even sure to who, or maybe to both. No,  _ especially  _ to both.

“I am sorry I made you feel like you weren’t enough for him,” Jack begged. “I’m sorry for sending you to the hospital, I’m sorry for accusing you of doing  _ anything  _ to him. I am so  _ so  _ sorry. Can- can you ever forgive me?” 

Spot didn’t think he’d ever seen Jack look so pathetic, so completely vulnerable. He wanted to say no, to just leave Jack here to suffer and never forgive him for the damage he’d done in such a short period. 

But then he thought of Anthony, of that smart cocky dancer he was so madly in love with. Racer was a good person, a better person than him that was for sure. Race would forgive him, so why shouldn’t Spot. 

“Neither of us deserve him,” Spot muttered. “You know that?” 

Jack looked caught off guard at the sudden change in conversation, but he let out a huff of laughter. “Yeah. I know.” 

“I don’t,” Spot started, not really knowing how to say it. “I don’t  _ need  _ your permission to date Racer.” Jack’s face morphed into a look Spot couldn’t quite decipher, but before any other unnecessary words were said, he was speaking again. “But you’re his person. He loves you, Jack, and always will. I don’t need your permission, but… I’d like your blessing. Do that, and we can put this behind us.”

Jack cracked a smile at his friend, a feeling of pride swelling in him. This wasn’t the same little asshole in little league who would hide his jersey, this was an entirely different person. A good person, someone his brother loved. His brother was a good person, a better person than him definitely. If Race loved him, loved him even half as much as Spot loved him, why would try to keep them apart?

“Yeah,” He breathed. “You have my blessing. Asshole.” 

Spot laughed at the unexpected curse, and Jack’s grinned at him for the first time since this had started. Things still weren’t okay. Things wouldn’t be for a while, they both knew, but this was a start. A good one. Maybe if they hadn’t been so stubborn, they would have been able to have this conversation without all the fighting and tears. 

And if they weren’t so dense, they would have noticed that Racetrack Higgins-Larkin was sitting on the steps of the stairs, hidden from their view, listening in on them with a soft smile on his face. They would have noticed he had been there since Jack had sat down.

They were only wrong on one thing; Race didn’t deserve  _ them.  _ It would take a while for things to calm, for him to smooth things over, but now he knew that Jack and Spot were okay. 

And that was a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh thank GOD they worked their stuff out. It feels strangely cathartic to be done with this work, even though it won't be the last in this series. I hope you guys enjoyed it because it took me a strangely long amount of time to write this lol
> 
> Leave me comments!!! Please!!! I love validation!!!! 
> 
> Thanks for reading guys, I really appreciate it and I think I'm finally at a point where I'm okay with people knowing me outside of this site. I've never shared my writing with anyone, lowkey out of shame and fear of judgment, but you guys have shown me nothing but love and kindness. Reach out to me on Tumblr, it's the same username ok? I wanna talk to you guys and hell, I'd like to get to the point of exchanging social medias one day. 
> 
> It'll just be my spam Instagram first, let's not get too carried away here!
> 
> But really. Thanks guys. I don't deserve you all 💕

**Author's Note:**

> If you were hoping for a happy continuation of these two's story, you were very sorely mistaken 😂 I just genuinely couldn't see Jack "Over-Protective-And-Ready-To-Throw-Hands-At-Any-Given-Moment" Kelly reacting any other way and I hope I'm not alone in that.
> 
> Also, I hope you realize Jack is an unreliable narrator because we all know Spot would never do any of the things Jack is accusing him of! Once again, if you didn't read the first part, one of the massive plot points was Spot's hesitance to do anything that might hurt Race. But Jack is kinda an overreactor so take it as you will lol
> 
> I hope you liked it! Leave me some comments, I thrive off of human interaction, and let me know what you think!! I love hearing you guys' feedback! 
> 
> Thanks for reading! I love you guys!


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